


Alive and Real

by pandarson



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Backstory, Hand Job, Headcanon, Identity Issues, M/M, Self-Discovery, Sex, Sex mentioned, Star Gazing, i am bad at tagging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-03
Updated: 2019-08-03
Packaged: 2020-07-30 03:41:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20090695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pandarson/pseuds/pandarson
Summary: Aziraphale started out as nothing. Not a thought in his head. Certainly none that matter. His journey is one of self-discovery and wanting to be more than what was intended for him.





	Alive and Real

There are always beginnings and sometimes there are beginnings within beginnings. This was one of those times.

A time in which there was no moon, there was no sun, a time in which time didn’t truly exist. There were no seconds or minutes or hours.

This was a time when Earth was seen as a hot new concept from God Herself. And the angels were there to help this concept come to life.

Some angels were there to make the skies for this Earth. The planets, the stars, and the nebula. To create black holes and to roll galaxies within them. Some were given tasks to design the life God would soon create, the bugs who would till the ground and help plants bloom, the plants that would change carbon in the air and provide shade and food for the bugs, animals and humans. The animals who would be companions to humans.

There were angels tasked helping design human beings in the image of the Almighty.

Others still did not have a task as of yet. An angel named Aziraphale had fallen into that category. At first, this angel and so many like him did not move, but they could see and they could listen. They watched everything happen around them. They could have easily been decoration and it wouldn’t have made any sort of difference. These angels had thoughts, but they were meaningless.

They simply were.

Then there was a time when all at once, movement became something that they could now do. Something that Aziraphale could now do. Gliding through the Heavenly quarters was now part of his capabilities. Speech as well, even if he often had nothing to say.

He was told he would have purpose soon. Aziraphale wasn’t aware he was supposed to have one, but that was fine. He didn’t have the privilege of choice anyway so there was no predilection towards one way over another. There was no disliking or liking anything. It just was.

He just was.

Angels walked him and others through tours of projects soon to be. They showed him plants and they were fine. He was shown animals, and he had no issues with them. He saw humans and then decided that is what a human being must be. They showed him the stars and he was sure God had much appreciation for them else they would not exist.

When other angels started asking questions, when there were whispers of rebellion, he said nothing for or against the notion because that was not his purpose. He would soon know what his purpose was, he was told. He watched the world passively as descent grew. As rage and grief began to build. As outraged angels cursed the name of God and demanding She give them answers. He watched as angels Fell and it meant nothing to him. He had not been told it was supposed to have meaning until after it was already over.

The first time there had been an inclination for one concept over another was during the war. Azirphale had made the decision that he did not like pain. He realized this when a part of him, a piece that would eventually form into one of two legs, had become horribly mangled from a sneak attack. It recovered to a point, but it would never be the same as before.

The second came shortly after, when he watched members of his squad become maimed and others ceased to be all together. He decided he did not like violence and he did not like death. He did not want to see others hurt the way he did.

The third and final preference of the war came after not long after the first and the second, when he had been sent on a mission to scout for the attackers. It did not take him long to find one. A vile demon caught and tangled, at the mercy of Aziraphale. A glorious flaming sword rose into the air. This sword knowing its purpose for righteous retribution in the hands of an angel who had none of the same determination or guidance. The sword never struck. He lowered it and decided he did not want to kill.

The demon was set free and Aziraphale did not ever speak of these deeds out loud.

His injuries made him a war hero, but he didn’t understand why. A ring was placed upon what later became one of two of his smallest fingers. It was for his bravery. He liked the ring, he had no strong opinion about being called a war hero.

With his injuries, he was also considered a useless combatant and through his pain he was given his true purpose. Aziraphale, Principality and Angel of the Eastern Gate. He was meant to watch and protect all the living things within the walls.

He was given a vessel and it alleviated the constant pain of his spiritual body, an aid that he did not want to give up.

He decided he liked having a physical form like humans did. It wasn’t exactly like humans though. There was a body like Adam’s and a body like Eve’s. Aziraphale had a body like Aziraphale and that body could choose Adam or Eve, both, some of them or neither. Since the angel didn’t have a strong leaning one way or another, he went with nothing at all.

It was a choice he had made on his own and he was becoming very fond of choices.

Humans made choices all the time. Adam chose to sing and Eve chose to swim. They chose to name animals and plants and bugs. They chose to lay together in a bizarre, yet somehow enjoyable ritual. At least, they both seemed to enjoy it.

One day, they had chosen to eat the forbidden fruit and that was the day Aziraphale made a choice as well.

He chose to give them his sword and told himself never to speak these deeds out loud. It gave him a nervous tick, what he had done. He fiddled with his hands, though he did not understand why.

A demon slithering up his wall and into his life, asking questions that sounded familiar but were different. Why punish on the first offense? Why make the tree’s fruit obtainable at all? Why not the moon? What is She planning?

Aziraphale could not give real answers, but the questions lingered in his head. Suddenly it was not about what he liked and didn’t like. Suddenly it wasn’t about making a simple choice. Now there was a why.

Why did he like things? Why did he dislike others? Why did he give away the sword? Why did it hurt when Adam and Eve left? Why was he not angry at Crawly?

What really was the issue with knowing the difference between right and wrong? Why had he never thought of that before?

And with questions came emotions. Confusion and sadness and excitement and fear. Oh God, so much fear. The fear of God’s wrath for giving his sword away terrified him. The fear of Crawly too, but in a different way, for different reasons. He was not afraid for his life with Crawly, he was afraid for all the things he suddenly felt. Bursts of questions and sensations and emotions. It was all so much so quickly, he wasn’t sure he could handle it. All because Crawly asked him questions that he couldn’t answer.

Crawly asked him where his sword was. Flaming like anything, he said.

“I gave it away!” He exclaimed, and suddenly he was faced with yet another new concept. He didn’t choose to tell Crawly, it didn’t feel like a choice at all. But no one forced him to say it. He said it. His mouth could work faster than his mind. He had told himself one thing, but did another. How was that possible?

Aziraphale then understood why he gave the sword away because he said it out loud, again before his mind could tell him. He did not want the humans to die.

The demon made him feel better and made him laugh. He made Aziraphale scared.

And he protected the demon when the first few fat drops of water fell from the sky. Neither of them knew if it was holy water and neither of them wanted to find out.

As time went on, Aziraphale felt as though he was becoming a human himself in ways. The many things humans did. He was still learning and discovering all the time. He learned he loved to smile as wide as he could. He learned that weeping could be a relief or a burden. He learned he why was sad when Adam and Eve had to leave. Because he loved them so.

He learned to read and learned to love language. Learned mathematics and that there was a manner of keeping track of time.

In 3004 BC Aziraphale finally understood--not learned--helplessness as he watched humans drown. He loved them all so much and could do nothing. Crawly, dressed in the parts of Adam, was there with him for this life lesson, again asking questions that Aziraphale could not answer.

Crawly doubted the Almighty. Of course he did. They were enemies. He was the adversary.

Aziraphale wanted to thank Crowley for staying with him until the rain ended. He didn’t. He never would.

In 33 AD Crawly came to him again, telling him her name was Crowley now, dressed in the parts of Eve and they watched in relative silence as the son of God was brutally nailed to a cross for the crime of caring.

It was at this time there was a new startling realization.

Was this really all he would ever be able to look forward to? Would he spend his entire existence watching humanity suffer and die? How much more could he possibly take when he loved them so very much?

That same night he cried into Crowley’s bosom, but did not say why. She never asked. She did not touch him back, but she never pushed him away. Aziraphale wanted to thank her, but he didn’t. He never would.

Things needed to change, didn’t they? Aziraphale could enjoy his own smile, feel bubbly from his own laugh, but how was he supposed to maintain it when the world could be so cruel?

He already knew the answer to that question, he needed to become more human if he was to continue on Earth.

Shortly after Yashua had risen from the dead, Aziraphale left for Rome, his job complete.

The angel informed Gabriel that he would need time put aside for field research. He was lagging too far behind and humans were finding him strange. That they were becoming too numerous to try and learn while on missions. That he couldn’t do the Lord’s work in these conditions.

When Gabriel attempted to argue the point that he could sway them unseen, Aziraphale reminded the archangel of that pesky thing humans had called free will and it rarely ever works just to whisper blessings in their ear.

The powers that be gave him a decade and told him while Aziraphale may have considered this time worked, head office did not, so this time would be coming out of his holiday balance.

That was perfect, actually, because while he did tell the truth, he may have accidentally left out the part about wanting to seek worldly pleasures for the sake of his own sanity. If he was technically off the clock, he would likely feel less guilty about it.

Humans sought pleasure because life could not be managed without it. It gave them a sense of relief. Aziraphale hoped it would do the same for him.

He started with the pools. This seemed like a good jumping off point, really. He never needed to bathe, but soaking his body in the hot waters of lead lined pools did wonders for his tension. He breathed in hot, thick steam and only ever wanted to swallow it whole.

This became daily, bathing himself until he had enough, then lounging to the side away from the public for reprieve, rubbing oils all over his body. Nudity was common in the bathing area so nothing he did was out of the ordinary. He draped himself across furniture and lazily enjoyed the sun. He watched humans play and bathe from a distance. He would take his mind off his worries.

When the pools closed down, he would spend his nights devouring literature. Starving for the escape, the knowledge, the adventure, the ecstasy. Craving to be everything he was never intended to be. Never running away fast enough from his early days where he felt more like a mindless automaton than an angel. He wanted to breathe and think and feel. He wanted to be alive and real.

But he wasn’t real. No matter what he did, he would never have free will. Even this fact finding mission was done with approval from Heaven, even if they didn’t understand the extent to which they agreed or Aziraphale intended.

Still, he would never be human, but he could get close and whatever was out of reach, he could just pretend otherwise every once in a while. Where was the harm?

One day, Aziraphale saw a tall, lithe figure of a man on the other side of the pool. There was a tilt of the hip, long and wavy dark hair. He was naked and he was beautiful.

The man turned to him and they made eye contact. All colored eyes to dark brown. Aziraphale blushed brightly when he realized he had been staring at a stranger quite rudely.

The stranger walked across the pool to sit beside Aziraphale and the angel didn’t have the time to even apologize before the human asked if he wanted to go to dinner with him. Aziraphale had never eaten before, so this was a new pleasure to try.

Eating was nothing he had ever experienced before. He had to close his eyes as bursts of flavor hit him in waves. The young man fed him grapes from his fingers and even the salt of his skin added to the taste of the sweet fruit. Every little bite sent shivers down him, made him hum and moan. It was firing up parts of this vessel’s brain that he was sure never been activated before.

His suitor moved close to him to block him off from others and told Aziraphale he was going to put his hand under the angel’s robes. Aziraphale let him. A soft hand stroked his cock, gentle and considered. There were urges to remain quiet, but Aziraphale wasn’t sure how he was supposed to be able to do that.

This was more intense than eating, fingers stroking along his shaft, against the tip. He could hardly keep control of his body, let alone his mouth.

The young man took him home and was down on his knees, head under Aziraphale’s toga, sucking him off.

Aziraphale didn’t last long but assured that he could keep going. The angel was taught how to give and receive, he was taught points of pleasure inside and outside the body. He was taught to treasure the taste of his lover’s body, to drink in what they offered.

No longer did Aziraphale spend all his days at the bathhouse, but instead finding new and interesting restaurants. He wanted to try everything there was in the entirety of Rome. He learned of new bathhouses, ones that specialize in lust. He would go there as male or female. Lay with whoever would take him first. He had no preference for looks or gender and he didn’t want one. Certainly not when it came to humans anyway.

He smoked herbs and drank plenty, both for the effects they held. He tasted supple lips, thin lips, and swollen lips. His head laid between many pairs of legs and in return many between his own. Sometimes one partner, sometimes two, sometimes so many he never could touch all of them, much to his dismay.

If he wasn’t in the bed of a lover’s, then he was reading and learning new games and puzzles.

Then it expanded more. Sex became less habitual, certainly not out of boredom, but in the pursuit understanding the philosophies and sciences, intercourse meant so much less. He spoke to humans with more brilliant minds than his own and in turn his expanded. Who painted visions of this world and beyond, who wrote about things never thought before.

He saw diagrams of what humans thought the inside of bugs looked like, he read literature on the current theories of plant biology. He saw so many wonderful animals and learned what they were called, what their life was like, what their mating rituals were, what their family structure was like, and how they cared for their children.

So many humans were passionate about the work they did and were more than happy to tell him about their discoveries. Spent all hours of the day letting him ask them questions and answering him in a way that a silly angel could understand They would give him references and encourage him to look for himself.

He learned that it was the sun's light that made the moon glow despite the darkness. That there were planets beyond Earth and they suspected they were all round and rocky just as their planet was.

Once he travelled far out from Rome, where there was not a single human for miles. All-colored eyes watched as the sun slowly sunk below the horizon and the colors of the evening sky battled with the waning morn. He felt his heart flutter as the beauty of light blues turning to oranges and pinks and purples before finally black and stars in the sky revealed themselves. Twinkling and distant, but so very much apart of Earth as anything else. So very much part of the human experience.

Aziraphale dropped to his knees and wept at their beauty.

How long had he been on the ground and never thought to tilt his head upward? To the truly see the expanse of the sky for what it really was. The most complex tapestry ever made. And it was made by angels.

It wasn’t until 41 AD that he had happened upon Crowley again. It had been far sooner than they had met previously, but he couldn’t deny it felt longer than it ever had before. Throughout his time in Rome he had wondered if the demon had tried this wine or this food, if he had bathed and felt dizzy from the steam of a bathhouse, if he too talked to humans and learned from them.

He even began wondering what Crowley tasted like. He very much hoped to find out.

Aziraphale had learned the subtle language of seducing from his many lovers and had hope he may finally get a chance to use it himself with the demon. It was not a great start when Aziraphale called him the wrong name even if he did quickly corrected himself and it did not help that Crowley was in the foulest of moods.

He asked the demon out on a date and made understated comment on temptation, how Crowley was the one to do it, wasn’t he? It earned him a stare and what he thought may have been a smile.

At Petronius’ he continued to try and sneak in little advances. He sat at Crowley’s side instead of across from him and touched his hand as he guided him through eating an oyster. He would mention him dashing in the context to their conversation or imply his wickedness in a sultry manner. None of it seemed to work.

If he had a choice, he would have told Crolwey plainly that all he really wanted out of this was for them to find some unpopulated place, for them to push their robes aside just enough and for Crowley to do whatever he wished to Aziraphale. He did not have a choice in this, though. To say it would be blasphemous.

He wanted Crowley to get the hint and to advance on him like a wild beast.

Aziraphale decided to stop as it could only be done so long before it felt completely inappropriate. Maybe Crowley was not interested because of the temptation that left him feeling disgusting or maybe he would never be interested at all.

So they spent their time talking, Aziraphale told Crowley about animals and insects, about art and poetry, about the human condition. He told him how wine was good and was there to be more than just drinkable.

They drank for the first time together. They were drunk for the first time together.

Aziraphale told him about how he saw the stars above him and truly understood their beauty.

“Do you know their names?” Crowley suddenly asked. Aziraphale told him he did not.

Soon they were running out of Rome so they could go look at the stars before the night ended. Crowley promised him he would show him things he had never seen before.

Aziraphale realized leisure had caught up to him and found himself slowing down far quicker than he had ever before. He took Crowley’s hand and the demon stopped in an instant. “Pull me along!” The angel laughed out and Crowley did so without argument. Without a single word, really.

They laid next to each other, drinking heavily still while Crowley pointed out specific stars and gave their names like he knew them personally. The demon gave such brilliant detail that Aziraphale swore he could see each beautiful celestial body as though it was in front of him. The demon described what nebulas were and Aziraphale recalled them from a time he usually did not want to think about. It wasn’t as a bother as it usually was because Crowley’s words brought color and light to these dark memories.

Soon the angel’s eyes weren’t peering into the sky any longer and instead onto the the slim form next to him.

They talked about the beauty of space, how the sun was a star and how were made up of gases. As they lay in the field, there was only talk of love and passion for the things that mattered most to them. There was no talk of Heaven or Hell or God.

Aziraphale hoped there were more times he could watch Crowley talk about what he loved, instead of what he hated.

And eventually, there was nothing more than needed to be said that night. They lay there in the grass together, content in their silence, staring at the the only heaven worth seeing. The one that belonged to Earth.

This had not gone as Aziraphale had hoped and for that he was glad. All he wanted was to taste Crowley but this was so much more. They shared space and they talked of passions far greater than lovemaking. Aziraphale could lay with anyone, but there was only one creature in the entirety of existence that he wanted to do nothing with.

Crolwey showing him the stars was not something he had never seen before as the demon promised. Aziraphale had seen them in Heaven, before the beginning. There was no need to tell him this because Crowley still did show the angel something he had never witnessed before.

Crowley had showed Aziraphale that he was alive and real.

Even if neither of them had the free will to truly choose to be alive and real together, maybe every once in a while they could pretend.

Where was the harm?

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. This really meant something to me. I hope it meant something to you too.
> 
> If you would like to read my best friend and soulmate's piece [Waiting for an Echo](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20116399), it works as a bit of a companion piece that goes into our thoughts on the war. They can be both be read as stand-alone works.


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